


The Ideal Last Game

by aquastellium



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Gen, Major Character Injury, That's it, just absolute angst, no fluff here sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquastellium/pseuds/aquastellium
Summary: Iizuna never got to play his last game with a smile on his face.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	The Ideal Last Game

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by @iizunacult on tiktok. go check them out!
> 
> never written angst before so HERE WE GO
> 
> buy me a coffee?
> 
> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/regretrograde

_It isn’t today, but one day I’ll play my last game…_

“Setter Miya Atsumu deftly sets to outside hitter Sakusa Kiyoomi, who deftly smashes it into Argentina’s court, scoring for team Japan!”

From the luxurious box seats, wealthy business people, investors, and sponsors mingled around Tsukasa Iizuna as the former team Japan setter sipped on his beer, watching the beautiful set go up to his former teammate. Cheers erupted from the stadium, fans screaming Sakusa and Atsumu’s names. _Some of those should have been for me,_ he reminisced, groaning as he shifted his arm in his sling, a sharp pain shooting up his shoulder. _But I guess life just doesn’t play out that way._

_… And you’d better believe I’m gonna finish that one with a smile!_

It was a _stupid_ injury. Absolutely ridiculous, should have never happened. It was the first game with the Deseo Hornets after Iizuna had accepted the position on team Japan. Entering his stadium, announced as one of the future setters of team Japan, his smile practically lit up the gymnasium, the crowd screaming wildly with excitement. In the corner of his eye, he’d noticed groups of children lined up with his jersey, eyes full of hope that they would get an autograph after the game. Fangirls waved fans with his name, screaming their ‘good lucks’ 

Little did they know, it was all for naught.

Halfway through the second set, an opposing team’s middle blocker jumped far too close in the net, knocking both Iizuna and his attempted setter dump down to the gymnasium floor. An audible, disgusting _crack_ rang through the stadium, the setter blacking out as he hit the floor. Specific memories of that day were fuzzy. He vaguely remembered waking up in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, a throbbing pain in his head as the EMTS asked too many questions far too quickly.

The next time he remembered waking up was in a hospital bed, his entire right shoulder and arm wrapped up, pain radiating through his head and the entire right side of his torso. His vision doubled, immediately forcing his eyes closed again as he attempted to scrape his brain of any memory that came to him. It took his team captain coming into his hospital room to explain what all had happened before it dawned on how serious the situation was.

A concussion, a broken shoulder blade resulting in numerous cracked ribs and internal lung damage. Doctors estimated a six month recovery time for everything.

That was the ‘generous estimation’.

Iiizuna couldn’t cry. The cracked ribs, broken shoulder, cast. Just _breathing_ too heavily resulted in extreme pain. But _fuck,_ he needed to cry, to have tears rolling down his face. He needed to release the pain and agony he was experiencing. The day of the injury, Komori rushed into his room, still dressed in his EJP Raijin uniform.

“I came as soon as I heard…” The libero’s eyes were wide as he stared at his former captain. “I’m so…”

“ _Don’t._ ” Iizuna’s voice cracked, tears starting to stream down his face. His teeth gritted, pain radiating all throughout his torso as a choked sob escaped his chest.

Komori quickly hurried to Iizuna’s bedside, tears streaming down his face as memories of the quarterfinals flooded back to him. Practically throwing himself onto the bed, he quickly realized he couldn’t hug his former captain in his state, deciding instead to hold Iizuna’s face in both his hands.

“No, no, no Iizuna-san.” Komori’s words choked out between his sobs. “Don’t hurt yourself anymore. Let me cry for you. Don’t cry, _please_.”

The following months were filled with numerous surgeries and grueling physical therapy sessions. Sensation never returned to his right middle finger and pinky ring, his movement range permanently limited. The day he learned he wouldn’t be able to ever play volleyball again, he found himself pounding on Komori’s door and breaking down in front of the libero. Like the first time, the second time, and now the third time.

And, of course, to add even more shame, the Olympic national committee announced a replacement setter the day after his injury. Thrown away like a sacrificial pawn in a game of chess.

iizuna swallowed down the forming knot in his throat with a large swig of beer. The last thing he needed was a group of entrepreneurs seeing him cry.

“You don’t have to be here, you know. No one would blame you.”

Iizuna’s attention turned briefly to Kuroo, the JVA manager resting a gentle hand on his shoulder as he stared out at the game. He followed suit, not sure if he could meet his former supervisor’s gaze. Following the injury, Kuroo had offered a position within JVA, a simple managerial position the JVA had most likely made just for him. He worked the job for a couple of months, but it resulted in a breakdown severe enough that he had to quit. Reality was still too painful, and going to work for the JVA so soon felt like someone ripping open his wound daily.

“I need to,” Iizuna admitted, watching as Aran and Yaku replaced Sakusa and Komori on court. “For them.”

In the reflection of the box seat window, Kuroo nodded solemnly, gently patting Iizuna on his uninjured shoulder. “You’re a good person, Iizuna. Hell, better than I’d be in your circumstances. I would have killed someone if they had done to me on court.”

“Don’t remind me,” iizuna mumbled, sipping on his beer.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” A heavy sigh escaped Kuroo’s lips as he stared at the game in front of him before turning his attention back to the wealthy sponsors. “If you need to get out of here, one of my assistants can get you a car ride home. Let me know if you need anything.”

Silence fell on the former setter as he stared out the window, the crowd once again screaming for one of Atsumu’s crazy sets. _I hope one day._ A tear rolled down Iizuna’s cheek onto the floor as he stared at Komori and Sakusa, the two chatting on the sidelines. _You two get to play your last game with a smile on your face._


End file.
